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LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


Hfa 


The  Black  Devils 

And 

Other  Poems 


BY 

STERLING  M.  MEANS, 

Author  of 
"The  Deserted  Cabin  and  Other 

Poems'" 
"The  German  War  Lord   ' 

and 
The  British  Lion" 


PENTECOSTAL  PUBLISHING  COMPANY, 
LOUISVILLE,  KENTUCKY. 


LIBRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


COPYRIGHT,  1919 

BY 
STERLING  M.  MEANS. 


To  the  Nine  Hundred  Thousand 
Black  Troops  who  fought  in  France 
and  Flanders  this  little  Volume  is  re 
spectfully 

DEDICATED. 


CONTENTS. 

The  Black  Devils   5 

Booker  T.  Washington's  Prayer. .  7 

Honey  Chile,  I  saw  Um  Pass 8 

Hab  You  Seed  Phil  Brown? 10 

The  Little  Cabin  near  the  Pines.  .12 
The  Kid  from  Chateau-Thierry  . .  14 

The  Slacker 17 

Christmas  Times  in  South  Carolina  19 

The  Ghost  of  East  St.  Louis 22 

The  Soldiers  and  Sailors  Monu 
ment 25 

When  de  Watch  am  Rio  Gran* ...  28 
The  Soldier's  Farewell  to  his  Wife  31 

A  Night  in  Flanders 33 

The  Angel  of  Easter  and  Ethopia  36 

The  Georgia  Pines 38 

To  the  Illfated  Tuscania 39 

"The  End  of  the  Trail"  42 

Africa  and  the  Dawn 47 

The  German  African  Colonies  ...  50 
The  Song  of  the  King's  Riflemen  . .  52 
The  Black  Troop  at  the  Battle  of 
Marne  .  . .  54 


THE  BLACK  DEVILS. 

You  have  read  of  the  French  Blue 
Devils, 

How  they  climb'd  the  Alpine  Peak ; 
How  they  fought  in  France  and  Flan 
ders, 

And  their  deeds  like  thunder  speak ; 
For  they  fought  with  Spartan  valor, 

As  all  history  will  record, 
But  they  failed  to  check  the  Teutons, 

And  their  raging  drunk  War  Lord ; 
America  calls  her  Black  Devils, 

And  lets  them  loose  in  the  awful 

fray, 
They  have  certainly  gone  in  action, 

They  will  find  'em  hell  to  play. 

They  were    the  first    to    bear    Old 

Glory, 

To  the  hell-swept  Western  Front, 
Amid  the  whiz  of  shells  and  shrap 
nels, 

But  they  bravely  bore  the  blunt. 
Big  Bertha  then  was  shelling  Paris, 
Sending  forth  her  projectiles, 
5 


6  The  Black  Devils 

Playing  havoc  and  destruction, 
Throwing   her    shells    a   hundred 

miles, 
Von  Hindenberg's  victorious  legions, 

Held  the  Anglo-French  at  bay, 
The  Black  Devils  stormed  the  center, 
The  Germans   found  'em  hell  to 
play. 

From  the  heights  of  Boston  Commons, 

From  the  battle  of  New  Orleans, 
From  the  stormy  days  of  Richmond, 

To  the  far  off  Philippines ; 
They  have  fought  and  fought  like  de 
mons, 

For  they  always  win  the  game; 
They  have  won  their  country's  lau-. 
rels, 

From  a  hundred  fields  of  fame ; 
As  their  fathers  did  yesterday, 

They  will  do  the  same  today, 
They  have  certainly  gone  in  action, 

They  will  find  'em  hell  to  play. 


And  Other  Poems  1 

BOOKER  T.  WASHINGTON'S 
PRAYER. 

Lay  me  down  'beneath  the  shadows  of 

the  long  leaf  Southern  pine, 
Beside  the  noisy  brook  and  gliding 

stream, 

Where  the  wild  honey  suckle  vine, 
Shall  around  my  Tomb  entwine, 
And  the  nights  are  balmy  and  fill 
ed  with  pleasant  dreams. 
Lay  me  down  where  the  S'wanee  Riv 
er  waters  flow, 
Where  the  Moon  pours  its  silver 

rays  of  light, 

When  I  cross  the  other  shore, 
In  the  mystic  world  I  soar, 
Let  my  parting  words  to  thee,  be 

just  "Good  night." 
Lay  me  down  in  Dixie  where  the  skies 

are  ever  blue, 

Let  me  slumber  where  the  sweet  mag 
nolias  bloom; 

Where  the  little  violets  too, 
As  they  drink  the  morning  dew, 
And  shed  their  evening  fragrance 
over  my  Tomb. 


The  Black  Devils 


(Written  in  honor  of  the  Colored 
Draftees  of  Indianapolis,  who  have 
gone  to  the  'Colors.) 

HONEY  CHILE,  I  SAW  'UM  PASS. 

Did  you  see  our  boys  a-leavin', 
Ez  de  bans  begin  ter  play; 

An*  such  a-stepin'  to  de  music, 
Ez  dey  did  on  yesterday. 

You  had  to  shuv  yo'  way  to  see  'um, 
Ez  dey  marched  on  to  de  train, 

An'  Old  Glory  she  wuz  wavin', 
Wid  de  sound  of  music  strain. 

Did  you  hear  de  noise  an'  shoutin', 
Ez  dey  wuz  markin'  step  by  step, 

Tho  untrained  in  soldier  drillin', 
But  wuz  flirtin'  time  wid  hep. 

Dey  stop  de  cars  and  blocked  de  traf 
fic, 

An'  de  crowds  wuz  in  a  mass, 
How  did  dey  look  ?   I  can't  describe  it, 

But  Honey  Chile,  I  saw  'um  pass. 


And  Other  Poems  9 

An*  de  folks  wuz  all  a-wavin', 
An*  little  banners  filled  de  air, 

Sad  "Good  byes"  and  "God  be  with 

you," 
While  you  'er  fightin'  "over  there  " 

Dey  forgot  discriminations, 
Dey  forgot  dat  dey  wuz  black, 

Fur  de  fires  of  patriotism, 
Burns  in  white  an'  black  alike. 

Dey  will  do  the  deeds  of  Wagner, 
An'  repeat  Fort  Pillow  too, 

Where   de  fathers   fought  for  Free 
dom, 
In  de  days  of  Sixty  Two. 

But  it  hab  anuther  title, 

It  iz  now  Democracy, 
Which  will  mean  a  higher  Freedom, 

When  dey  fight  beyond  de  sea. 

When  dey  reach  de  plains  of  Flanders, 
Dey  will  face  de  Germans  gas, 

An'  Brur  Kaiser  he  will  tell  you, 
Honey  Chile,  I  saw  'um  pass. 


10  The  Black  Devils 


HAB  YOU  SEED  PHIL  BROWN? 

Chile,  Ise  been  to  Louisville, 

Sent  dar  ez  Delegate, 
To  'tend  to  big  Convention, 

Ob  old  Kentucky  State; 
Ise  a  big  Republican, 

Knows  all  erbout  politics, 
Knows  all  erbout  de  Party, 

An*  all  de  cuis  tries. 
I  went  to  de  Pethiam  Buildin', 

Soon  ez  I  got  in  Town, 
Some  Negroes  come  an*  ax  me, 

Why  hab  you  seed  Phil  Brown? 

Great  Scots?    Who  iz  dat  Negro? 

Iz  he  a  greater  man  den  me? 
Hab  you  heard  ob  Thacker  Lightfoot, 

Ise  de  second  Booker  T. 
I  'tends  all  de  conventions, 

Ise  one  ob  de  leadin'  men, 
Ise  de  man  you  want  to  see, 

Ef  you  want  your  tries  to  win. 
We  went  to  Seelbach  Hotel, 

De  Biggest  House  in  Town, 
When  I  got  dar  dey  ax  me, 

Why  hab  you  seed  Phil  Brown? 


And  Other  Poems  11 

We  lef '  de  Seelbach  Hotel, 

And  went  to  Phoenix  hill, 
An*  when  dey  all  had  got  dar, 

De  Negroes  wuz  axin,  still. 
De  Ban*  played,  good  ole  "Dixie," 

An'  "My  Ole  Kentucky  Home," 
But  Phil  was  still  de  center, 

An*  lightning  uv  de  storm. 
Soon  ez  de  Ban*  had  ceased  to  play, 

An*  all  had  quieted  down, 
You  could  hear  dem  Negroes  whis 
pering 

Why  hab  you  seed  Phil  Brown? 

Phil  wuz  sent  to  Chicago, 

Sent  dar  ez  delegate. 
An'  who  will  be  next  President, 

We  all  will  hab  to  wait. 
An'  erbout  de  War  wid  Germans, 

I  do  not  fess  to  know, 
An'  cannot  tell  what  happen, 

In  years  ob  long  ago. 
But  a  thing  Ise  most  nigh  certain, 

Will  be  ax'd  in  Chicago  Town, 
Good  Morning,  Mr.  Tedy, 

Why  hab  you  seed  Phil  Brown? 


12  The  Black  Devils 

Should  dem  Negroes  get  to  heaven, 

An'  view  de  great  White  Throne, 
An*  see  all  de  friends  an'  kinfolks, 

Who  now  iz  dead  an*  gone. 
An*  when  dey  cross  de  riber, 

Some  den  would  stand  an'  wait, 
To  ax  de  great  Saint  Peter, 

De  keeper  at  de  Gate, 
When  de  Lord  sez  "Come  ye  blessed 

To  git  your  starry  crown," 
Some  Negroes  den  would  ax  Him, 

I  wonder  where  iz  Phil  Brown  ? 


THE  LITTLE  CABIN  NEAR  THE 
PINES. 

Tho  far  from  home  I've  wandered, 

Gone  are  the  distant  years, 
And  the  childhood  days  I  squandered, 

Gone  are  the  simple  cares ; 
But  they  have  left  an  after  longing, 

That  evoked  these  measured  lines, 
Of  my  Boyhood  recollections, 

The  little  Cabin  near  the  pines. 


And  Other  Poems  13 

I  have  seen  many  a  mansion, 

With  ascending  frescoed  walls, 
With  their  porch  of  much  expansion, 

And  their  lavish  gilded  halls ; 
But  they  claim  no  admiration, 

Where  the  noblest  grandeur  shines, 
As  the  spot  on  the  Old  Plantation, 

The  little  'Cabin  near  the  pines. 

I  could  hear  the  watch  dog  howl, 
Thru  the  stillness  of  the  nights, 
And  then  the  noisy  owl, 

Would  excite  my  childish  frights, 
The    whippoorwill    sung   the    whole 

night  long, 
And    would  repeat  his    measured 

lines, 
And  I  still  can  hear  the  echo  of  his 

song, 

As  I  listen  in  the  Cabin  near  the 
pines. 


14  The  Black  Devils 

THE      KID      FROM      CHATEAU- 
THIERRY. 

The  war  sho'  made  a  man  o'  him, 

He  was  but  a  slender  lad, 
When  he  was  called  to  the  colors, 

It  left  us  feeling  sad. 
But  the  Kid  is  now  a  soldier, 

He  has  served  his  country  true, 
His  uniform  is  the  khaki, 

His  grand-dad  wore  the  blue. 
In  the  Sixties  he  was  summoned, 

And  sent  to  Harpers'  Ferry ; 
Grand-dad   came   home   from   Rich 
mond, 

But  the  Kid,  from  Chateau-Thier 
ry. 

Little  did  we  think  when  the  war 
broke  out, 

That  the  kid  would  have  to  go ; 
And  fight  four  thousand  miles  away, 

Against  a  German  foe. 
And  the  day  he  said  to  us  "good-bye," 

It  filled  my  heart  with  grief, 
Till  the  tidings  came  from  o'er  the 
sea, 

That  brought  to  us  relief. 


And  Oteh  Poems  15 

Gone  are  long  and  lonesome  nights, 
Gone,  are  the  hours  dreary, 

The  boy  has  come ;  my  heart  delights, 
He  hails  from  Chateau-Thierry. 

He  wears  the  "Croix  de  Guerre," 

For  being  a  gallant  lad ; 
It  makes  his  mother  proud  o'  him, 

And  how  it  pleases  dad. 
He  tells  us  of  his  soldier  dreams, 

And  of  the  Trench  warfare, 
And  what  they  meant  by  "over  the 

top," 

While  fighting  "over  there," 
He  is  home  with  us  tymight  once 

more, 

And  let  us  all  make  merry, 
For  the  Victor  and  the  Conquered 

foe, 

For  the  kid  from  Chateau-Thier 
ry. 

The  day  he  wrote  that  he  would  sail, 

I  gave  his  cause  to  God, 
And  prayed  that  he  would  soon  re 
turn, 

With  victory  as  reward. 


16  The  Black  Devils 

The  Prodigal  son  on  his  return 

From  a  country  far  away, 
Tho  left  the  paths  of  righteousness, 

His  footsteps  went  astray. 
But  his  father  killed  the  fatted  calf, 

To  make  the  Prodigal  merry, 
Why,    I    should   shout,    rejoice    and 
laugh, 

My  kid  from  Chateau-Thierry. 

Thank  God  the  war  is  ended, 

The  task  we  hope  is  done, 
May  the  fields  grow  green  with  clover 

Where  Flanders  Rivers  run ; 
Our  boys  have  done  their  duty, 

They  were  black  but  valiant  men, 
And  proved  as  much  a  soldier, 

As  those  of  fairer  skin; 
Let  America  now  receive  them, 

And  her  Jim  Crowism  bury, 
For  the  sake  of  those  who  fought 
with  him, 

Who  hails  from  Chateau-Thierry. 


And  Other  Poems  17 


THE  SLACKER,* 

We  have  a  slacker  in  our  town, 

He  is  always  on  his  beat; 
You  will  often  find  him  somewhere 
round, 

The  corner  of  West  North  Street. 
I  have  never  seen  him  in  a  store, 

Nor  in  a  Barber  shop, 
I  have  never  seen  him  in  a  row, 

Nor  running  from  a  cop. 
1  have  never  seen  him  in  a  Church, 

Nor  at  the  Y.  M.  C.  A. 
1  have  never  heard  him  sing  a  song, 

I  have  never  heard  him  pray. 
If  you  wish  to  know  Brur  Josh, 

He  has  a  bread  box  for  his  seat, 
He  sits  beside  the  Market  store, 

The  corner  of  West  North  Street. 

I  have  never  seen  him  in  a  Park, 

I  could  not  say  he  shirks, 
I  have  never  seen  him  on  a  Job, 

I  donna  where  he  works. 
I  have  never  seen  him  take  a  dram, 

I  could  not  say  he  drinks, 


18  The  Black  Devils 

I  have  never  heard  him  talk  enough, 

^0  find  out  what  he  thinks. 
His  height  is  far  from  being  tall, 

He  is  not  so  very  low, 
He  reminds  you  of  someone  you  have 

seen, 

In  the  Southland  years  ago. 
His  color  is  not  a  sooty  black, 

He  is  far  from  being  brown, 
And  then  he  is  not  what  you  might 

call, 

The  blackest  man  in  town. 
Should  'Gabtfiel  blow  the  {Trumpet 

now, 

He  would  find  a  lots  in  France; 
He  would  find  some  at  the  picture 

show, 

He  would  find  some  at  a  dance, 
But  if  he  then  would  find  Brur  Josh, 
To  summon  to  the  Judgment  Seat, 
He  would  take  the  Indiana  or  River- 
Side  Car, 
And  stop  at  West  North  Street. 


*  A  scene  in  Indianapolis,  suggested 
the  Poem. 


And  Other  Poems  19 


CHRISTMAS  TIMES  IN  SOUTH 
QAR'LINIA. 

I  told  Sallie  to  milk  de  cow, 

While  de  boys  fed  de  mules; 
I  recollect  twuz  Christmas, 

But  didn't  furget  my  rules. 
My  wife  Lucy  had  cooked  de  cakes, 

An'  made  some  'lases  bread, 
I  had  sold  my  cotton  an*  bought  my 
gin, 

No  need  ob  actin'  dead. 
Fur  I  wuz  'spectin'  cumpany, 

From  ten  miles  around  dat  day. 
I  had  planned  to  hab  sum  music, 

To  dance  de  times  eway. 
Ise  uster  liberly  Christmas, 

An'  liberly  ain't  no  sin, 
Fur  I  knowed  dey  couldn't  church  me, 

Fur  drinkin'  a  little  gin. 

It  was  jest  erbout  nine  o'clock, 
De  cumpany  wuz  gettin'  in, 

Elder  Thacker,  my  bruder  an'  hiz 

foks, 
Elder  Johnson  an'  Deacon  Wynn. 


20  The  Black  Devils 

Well,  I  met  de  Elders  an*  de  deacon, 

Told  to  make  demselves  at  home. 
An*  dont  feel  no  ways  lonesome, 

So  we  put  'urn  in  anuther  room. 
Johnny  Jenkins  comes  in  wid  de  ban 
jo, 

Some  one  rushed  an'  told  him 
Dat  de  elders  an*  deacon  wuz  here, 

Johnny  said  he  had  hope  to  shun 

them 
But  Christmas  comes  but  once  a  year. 

We  served  de  elders  and  de  Deacon 
'lases  cakes, 

An*  some  good  ol'  possum  meat; 
An'  dey  thanked  us  very  much, 

Fur  such  a  Christmas  treat; 
Den  dey  ask  dat  dey  might  go, 

In  de  Room  wid  de  yudder  fokst, 
Dat  dey  may  hear  some  moments, 

Ob  funny  tales  and  jokes 
An*  dey  said,  "'Legion  neber  wuz  de 
sign 

To  make  yo'  pleasures  less, 
An'  dat  wuz  de  reason  dey  wouldn't 
be  odd, 

F'om  de  yudder  ob  de  guest." 


And  Other  Poems  21 

Let  me  tell  you  Honey  Chile, 

Some  good  lookin'  gals  uz  dar; 
Some  velvet  'blacks,  an'  very  high 
browns, 

Den  some  wuz  mighty  fair. 
Well,  dey  line  up  fur  de  music, 

Johnny  Jenkins  touch  de  strings, 
An*  hit  seem  dat  de  music  went  all 
through  you, 

De  way  he  made  de  banjo  ring. 

De  youngsters  begin  to  cut  de  capers, 

Begin  a-stepin'  soft  an'  slow, 
Tell  he  begin  playin'  "Down  where  de 
palmettos  grow." 

Den  ole  Ant  Lizier  goes  fur  'lig- 

ious, 
Took  both  hands  an'  closed  her  ears, 

But  her  body  wuz  in  motion, 
An*  her  eyes  wuz  leakin'  tears. 

Elder  Johnson  got  so  nervous, 
Till  hiz  knee  bones  gib  erway, 

He  sed  ef  "you  don't  stop  dat  mu 
sic, 
Dat  his  feet  would  go  astray. 

Ef  you  don't  stop  dat  dancin', 


22  The  Black  Devils 

I  will  lay  my  'legion  down, 

Christmas  time  in  South  Carolina, 

Will  make  me  lose  my  starry  crown. 
I  like  to  forgot  Ant  Dinah, 

But  evahbody  knows  her, 

When  Christmas  times  in  South  Car- 
'lina. 


THE  GHOSTS  OF  EAST  ST.  LOUIS. 

Last  night  as  I  lay  slumbering  upon 

my  little  couch, 
I  was  questioned,  "why  Democracy" 

had  failed  our  cause  to  vouch. 
The  old  Tom  Cat  was  quiet  and  had 

ceased  to  chase  the  mouse ; 
And  a  sad  majestic  silence  prevailed 

throughout  the  house. 
The  winds  were  blowing  mournfully, 
The  skies  were  black  with  cloud ; 
And  nothing  broke  the  stillness  save 

a  dog  was  barking  loud. 

As  I  was  somewhat  nodding  and  doz 
ing  in  a  trance, 


And  Other  Poems  23 

Dreaming  of  our  soldiers  somewhere 
on  the  fronts  in  France. 

A  host  of  spirits  came  to  me  and  one 
gave  me  a  gentle  touch, 

That  aroused  me  in  my  slumbers  and 
disturbed  we  very  much. 

The  souls  of  the  defenceless,  whose 
lives  had  been  robbed ; 

For  they  were  the  helpless  victims  of 
the  East  St.  Louis  Mob. 

There  were  innocent  little  children, 
mothers,  and  men  giant  mould. 

They    were    common    rustic   toilers 

,  whose  hearts  were  pu;re  as 

gold. 

And  they  told  their  solemn  mission 
for  they  had  one  common  plea. 

"Will  you  ask  my  Country  to  ex 
plain  Democracy?" 

Why,  I  said  that  I  will  tell  you  or  will 

try  the  best  I  can. 
That  true  Democracy  is  the  Freedom 

and  equal  rights  of  every  man. 
Then  they  were  more  persistent  than 

they  really  were  before. 


24  The  Black  Devils 

"Please  tell  us  why  they  mobbed  us, 
we  would  certainly  like  to 
know?" 

"And  the  murderers  go  unpunished 
and  little  is  done  or  said, 

When  we  were  simply  toiling  to  earn 
our  children's  bread." 

Then  I  commence  a-weeping  as  they 
told  their  Tale  of  woe, 

To  think  when  we  are  mistreated  that 
we  had  nowhere  to  go. 

All  sudden  in  appearance,  came  a 
Man  of  ungainly  mould, 

"Father  Abraham  Lincoln  with  the 
Flag  with  rippling  fold. 

He  gave  fond  consolation  to  the  spir 
its  and  to  me. 

He  said :  "I  am  the  Father  and  Mar 
tyr  of  true,  Democracy ; 

I  set  the  ripple  upon  the  wave  and  it 
shall  break  beyond  the  sea." 


And  Other  Poems  25 


THE   SOLDIERS    AND    SAILORS' 
MONUMENT— INDIANAPOLIS. 

Ye  Soldiers  and  Sailors'  Monument, 
The  splendid  shaft  from  whence  it 

rose, 
Statues  adorned,  war  implement, 

What  deeds  of  valor  they  disclose. 
Ye  Hoosiers'  son  of  rustic  toil, 
Thy  forms  are  with  the  fleeting 

years, 

Thy  bodies  hallowed  then  the  soil, 
In  Freedom's  cause  ye  were  the 

peers. 
Who   rent   the   lightning   from   the 

cloud, 

And  struck  with  might  thy  Coun 
try's  Foe, 

And  tore  amid  the  regal  shroud, 
And  set  the    stars    of    freedom's 
glow. 

No    polished    shaft    nor    sculptured 

stone, 
Nor  epic  sung  by  ancient  Bard, 


26  The  Black  Devils 

Would  now  portray  what  valor  won, 
Or  bequeath  to  thee  some  fond  re 
ward. 
Ye  were  the  first  to  see  the  light, 

Of  liberty's  celestial  flame, 
And  taught  the  world  that  right  was 

might, 

Enshrined  it  in  the  halls  of  fame. 
Sleep  on,  the  whole  world  knows  thy 

deeds, 

Lest  they  forget,  we  tell  the  truth, 
Thy  fame  is  without  minstrel  needs, 
It  stands  a  sentinel  to  the  youth. 

Ye  stalwart,  brave  heroic  men, 

Who  came  at  freedom's  high  behest, 
And  thru  the  shouting  and  the  din, 
Found  an  Empire  in  the  West. 
5fe  drove  the  pirates  from  the  seas, 

And  put  Embargo  on  thy  trade, 
Then  with    thy  stern    arid    firm  de 
crees, 

Broke  the  world's  first  Blockade. 
Ye  Soldiers  and  Sailors'  Monument, 

The  common  heritage  of  Mankind, 
With  reverent  head  and  fond  content, 

We  bow  before  thy  sacred  shrine. 


And  Other  Poems  27 

Ye   broke    the    Southern    bondsmen 

Yoke, 
That  made  the  helpless  Black  Men 

free; 

And  thru  the  flame  and  battle  smoke, 
Ye  marched  with  Sherman  to  the 

sea. 
Ye  fought  the  proud  Castilian  Foe, 

And  broke  his  scepter  in  the  West, 
And  drove  the  tyrant  from  our  door, 

His  Empire  fell  at  thy  behest. 
Ye  fought  for  true  Democracy ; 
When  Freedom's  light  was  like  the 

dawn, 

And  struck  to  make  the  helpless  free, 
Ere  Joffre  fought  along  the  Marne. 

The  unborn  youth  in  after  years, 
Shall    look    to    thee  with    martial 

pride, 
To  those  who  bore  their  Country's 

cares, 

And  on  the  fields  of  glory  died. 
No    nobler    deeds    than    thine    are 

wrought, 

Accept  our  tribute  to  thy  cause ; 
The  lesson  which  thy  chivalry  taught 


28  The  Black  Devils 

For  nature  has  no  higher  laws. 
Then  thy  birthright  was  divine, 
Some  battling  Seraph  led  thy  way, 
And  hovered  over  thy  far  flung  line, 
That  bore  to  us  this  brighter  Day. 


WHEN  DE  WATCH  AM  RIO  GRAN' 

Dedicated  to  the  Tenth  Cavalry  at  the 
Battle  of  Carrizal. 

When  their  captains  gave  the  orders 

For  the  gallant  Tenth  to  go ; 
For  their  troops  to  cross  the  River, 

To  invade  old  Mexico; 
Then  I  thought  about  the  Germans, 

And  their  great  embattled  line, 
When  their  soldiers  went  through 
Belgium, 

That  they  sung:  "Die  wacht  am 

Rhine." 
At  the  Battle  of  Carrizal, 

With  Boyd  and  Morey  in  Comman', 
Then  my  muse  inspired  the  lyric, 

That  "De  watch  am  Rio  Gran." 


And  Other  Poems  29 

If  some  bard  should  sing  the  story, 

And  would  weave  a  posy  spell, 
Of  the  gallant  Negro  soldier, 

He  would  have  this  tale  to  tell : 
That  his  deeds  illumed  the  pages, 

Of  the  Golden  Book  of  fame, 
Should  you  read  unbiased  history, 

You  would  surely  find  his  name. 
He's  like  Kipling's  "Tommy  Atkins," 

"He  is  a  first  class  fighting  man," 
When  his  captain  orders  "Forward," 

And  "De  watch  am  Rio  Gran." 

And  they  went  to  death  a-smiling, 

With  their  banner  flaunting  high, 
And  they  fell  but  left  Old  Glory, 

In  the  breeze  of  Freedom's  sky ; 
And  the  ground  forever  sacred, 

Where  the  dusky  warriors  sleep, 
And  glory  is  their  sentinel, 

While  fame  their  vigils  keep. 
For  the  Pass  was  like  Thermopyle, 

But  a  small  heroic  Ban', 
When  they  fell  at  Carrizal, 

When  "De  watch  am  Rio  Gran." 


30  The  Black  Devils 

What's  the  use  of  watchful  waiting, 

When  the  awful  die  is  cast, 
And  the  Flag  has  been  insulted, 

And  she  shudders  on  her  mast, 
Listen  to  the  mobilizing, 

Listen  to  the  tramping  feet, 
Hip-ho  ray  as  now  they  step  it, 

They  will  never  brook  defeat, 
Listen  to  the  drums  a-beating, 

To  the  music  and  the  Ban', 
For  the  gallant  Tenth  has  told  you, 

That  "De  watch  am  Rio  Gran*  " 

Tomy  Atkins  "Tiperary," 

And    the    Germans:    "Wacht   am 

Rhine," 
Will  not  stir  a  Negro  soldier, 

When  he  is  on  the  firing  line. 
When  he  hears  the  "S'wanee  River," 

And  "My  Old  Kentucky  Home," 
Tho  his  skin  be  black  as  ebon, 

But  he  is  lightning  in  the  storm; 
He  forgets  the  cruel  treatment 

Of  his  Race  in  Dixie  Lan' 
When  its  trouble  'long  the  Border. 

And  "De  watch  am  Rio  Gran." 


And  Other  Poems  31 


THE    SOLDIER    FAREWELL    TO 
HIS  WIFE. 

Come  kiss  me  "Good  bye/'  Annie, 

It  is  time  for  us  to  leave, 
I  have  enjoyed  your  coming, 

We  have  spent  a  pleasant  Eve. 
The  transport  now  is  waiting, 

The  men  are  going  aboard, 
The  Captain  sends  the  orders, 

For  all  we  boys  to  load. 
Take  good  care  of  the  Baby, 

And  the  other  children  too, 
And  may  God  be  with  you, 

And  you  to  me  be  true. 

"Keep  the  home  fires  burning," 

And  beware  of  flirts, 
Remember  a  woman's  honor, 

Is  not  in  silken  skirts. 
You  must  be  as  true  now, 

As  you  were  in  maiden  life, 
Your  Husband  is  now  in  khaki, 

And  you  are  a  soldier's  Wife. 
Should  the  little  kids  annoy  you, 

To  ask  where  I  am  gone, 


32  The  Black  Devils 

You  must  let  your  face  be  smiling, 
And  do  not  seem  forlorn : 

Just  sing  to  them,  "America," 
"My  country  'tis  of  thee," 

The  cause    for  which    their  father 

fights, 
In  lands  beyond  the  sea. 

Then  you  must  be  a  soldier. 

To  be  a  soldier's  wife, 
To  fight  on  the  fronts  of  honor, 

For  a  pure  and  noble  life. 
The  world  may  not  salute  you, 

For  the  victory  you  may  gain, 
With  the  bag  pipe  and  the  bugle, 

With  the  isounds  of  martial  strains. 
But  the  noblest  of  all  the  heroes, 

In  heaven's  high  esteem, 
Are  those  who  win  in  battle, 

What  the  sword  could  not  redeem. 
Come  kiss  me,  "Good  bye,"  Annie, 

"Blest  be  the  tie  that  binds," 
And  may  our  hearts  still  beat  as  one, 

When  I'm  on  the  firing  line. 
We'll  hold  the  line  along  the  Marne, 

As  the  Greeks  did  Scamander's, 
You  need  not  write  me  darling  Wife, 

Till  you  hear  from  me  in  Flanders. 


And  Other  Poems  33 


A  NIGHT  IN  FLANDERS. 

It  was  a  dark,  long  lonesome  night, 
While  we  were  in  the  trenches; 

We  were  afraid  to  use  the  light, 
Lest  we  informed  the  Boches. 

I  thought  of  -Christ  who  died  for  me, 
And   spent  the  Night  in  Gethse- 
mane. 

The  shells  were  bursting  thru  the  air, 

The  whole  night  long, 
I  thought  of  Mother's  prayer, 

And  her  old  familiar  song : 
''Dark  was  the  night  and  cold  the 
ground," 

On  which  the  Lord  was  found. 

Jesus  went  to  Gethsemane, 

To  bring  Salvation  full  and  free  ; 

I  have  spent  many  nights  in  Flanders, 
For  the  world's  Democracy. 

There  with  the  Stars  and  Stripes  un 
furled, 
I  pawned  my  life  to  save  a  world. 


34  The  Black  Devils 

I  was  a  sentinel  many  nights, 
Stood  as  the  Nations  guard, 
And  fought  on  Armageddon  heights, 

For  victory  and  reward. 
At    Dead    Man's    Hill    I    took    my 

stand, 

And    unfurled    the    Flag    in    "No 
Man's  Land'' 

The  price  I  ask  for  reward, 

Justice  and  Liberty; 
When  we  conquer  the  Grejat  War 
Lord, 

Will  you  remember  me; 
Will  you  not  my  cause  despise, 

When  you  reach  Peace-Paradise? 

When  the  Huns  within  your  doors, 
Were  but  serpents  in  your  breast, 

Proved  to  be  your  bitter  foes, 
But  we  have  stood  the  test. 

We  heeded  not  his  propagandas, 
For  we  fought  your  foes  in  Flan 
ders. 

Alll  we  ask  of  thee  a  chance, 
All  we  ask  is  a  "Square  deal" 


And  Other  Poems  35 

While  we  hold  the  fronts  in  France. 

Where  mighty  empires  rock  and 

reel. 
Kill  the  disfranchising  Clause, 

And  give  us  justice  in  your  Law. 

Give  us  Justice  at  the  Bar, 

Will  you  slay  the  Serpent  Lynch; 
And  remove  the  Jim  Crow  Car? 

While  we  fight  in  Flanders  trench. 
For  we  are  your  truest  friends, 

We  will  fight  with  you  till  all  of  it 
ends. 


36  The  Black  Devils 


THE  ANGEL  OF  EASTER  AND 
ETHIOPIA. 

Angel  of  Easter,  we  hail  the  crimson 

dawn, 
The  flowers  smile  with  gladness  along 

the  dewy  lawn ; 
The  little  feathered  songsters  are  full 

of  joy  and  glee, 
The  signs  of  thy  presence  are  seen  on 

every  tree. 

Angel  of  Easter,  Ethiopia  prays  to 

thee, 
That  thou  mayest  bring  the  tidings 

of  true  Democracy ; 
She  long  has  borne  the  Burden  and 

groaned  beneath  the  load ; 
How  long  heavenly  Messenger,  shall 

she  totter  on  the  road? 
Like  the  meek  and  humble  Savior, 

her  sons  are  crucified; 
In  this  fair  Land  of  Freedom,  their 

rights  have  been  denied. 


And  Other  Poems  37 

Those  in  the  courts  of  Justice,  like 
Pilate,  have  washed  their 
hands. 

While  cruel  mobs  flayed  its  victims 
with  torch  and  fire  brands. 

Angel  of  Easter,  abide  with  us  today, 
When  trials  entomb  us  to  roll  the 

stone  away, 
0  may  we  now  entreat  thee  to  tarry 

with  us  here, 
To  lift  the  heavy  Burden  and  to  rid 

us  of  our  care. 
Thus  like  the  Sainted  Jacob,  we  cling 

now  to  thy  side, 
That  thou  mayest  with  us  linger,  and 

still  with  us  abide; 
Lo  the  dark  Night  is  passing;  we  see 

the  light  of  Dawn, 
The  resurrected  Promise  for  those 

who  fell  at  Marne. 


38  The  Black  Devils 


THE  GEORGIA  PINE. 

Ise  longin,'  longin'  fur  de  Georgia 

Pine, 

An  fur  dat  melon  on  de  melon  vine; 
An'  fur  dat  sweet  brown  skin  Gal 

o'  mine, 

An'  fur  de  piney  hill, 
Where  de  solumn  whipperwill, 
Breaks  de  silence  when  all  iz  still, 
Save  de  runnin'  brook, 
An'  de  kisses  dat  I  took, 
F'om  Matilda  against  her  will. 
Ise  been  longin'  longin'  all  de  day, 
Fur  de  cotton  fields  far,  far  away, 
Whur  all  de  good  time  darkies  uster 

stay; 

Whur  de  heart  beats  ever  true, 
An'  de  skies  iz  always  blue, 
An'  de  violets  drinks  de  mornin'  dew, 
Whur  de  sweet  magnolias  bloom, 
Fill  de  air  wid  its  perfume, 
Dixie  iz  Eden  made  over  new. 


And  Other  Poems  39 


TO  THE   ILLFATED   TUSCANIA. 

"That  from  these  honored  dead  we 
take  increase  devotion." — Lincoln. 

We  take  increase  devotion, 

For  the  cause  for  which  we  fight, 
For  the  cause  of  every  nation, 

Against  the  German's  might ; 
We  stand  at  Armageddon, 

For  the  cause  which  Lincoln  stood, 
And  around  the  Forts  of  Verdun, 

Our  men  have  spilt  their  blood. 

We  take  increase  devotion, 

Our  Sword  shall  not  return, 
Till  Freedoms'  great  salvation, 

On  every  Altar  burn. 
Till  the  rights  of  every  nation, 

Shall  be  a  cause  sublime, 
Freedom  on  every  ocean, 

In  every  land  and  clime. 

We  take  increase  devotion. 
And  deplore  Tuscania's  fate, 

That  sank  beneath  the  ocean, 
To  save  our  Ship  of  State; 


40  The  Black  Devils 

Our  noble  men  who  perished, 
Beneath  the  briny  main, 

Their  memory  we  shall  cherish, 
They  have  not  died  in  vain. 

And  when  the  years  are  hoary, 

Their  deeds,  we  shall  rehearse, 
Shall  live  in  song  and  story 

A  Tale  of  Epic  verse ; 
We  take  increase  devotion, 

For  true  Democracy, 
And  we  shall  do  our  portion, 

For  world  wide  Liberty. 

Behold  the  Bear  of  Russia, 

Paralyzed  and  in  the  dust, 
Struck  by  the  Sword  of  Prussia, 

A  victim  of  her  lust ; 
Behold  the  Throne  of  Belgium, 

They  swept  her  from  the  earth, 
Its  nation  brought  to  Serfdom, 

By  men  of  "Kultur"  birth. 

With  the  British  Lion  roaring, 
And  almost  in  his  lair, 


And  Other  Poems  41 

While  France  was  white  from  bleed 
ing, 

And  trembling  in  despair; 
Her  men  which  they  were  routing, 

In  trenches  filled  with  gore, 
We  heard  the  din  and  shouting, 

And  haste  to  meet  the  Foe. 

We'll  face  the  Kaiser's  mighty  guns, 

And  hold  the  Western  Line, 
And  will   advance   until  the  Huns, 

Have  fled  beyond  the  Rhine. 
We  take  increase  devotion, 

As  we  did  on  yesterday, 
And  may  the  spirit  of  Lincoln, 

Still  lead  us  on  the  way. 

We  have  a  courage  never  daunts, 

Nor  dreads  the  Zeplin's  notions, 
Nor     care     what     submarine     that 
haunts, 

The  North  Atlantic  Ocean. 
We  will  fight  the  Germans  anywhere, 

On  the  land  or  in  the  air, 
This  nation  has  one  constant  prayer, 

We  take  increase  devotion. 


42  TVte  Black  Devils 


"THE  END  OF  THE  TRAIL." 

To  Colonel  Theodore  Roosevelt— 
Dead. 

I  heard  the  News  Boy  on  the  street, 

The  words  distinctly  said, 
Crying,  "Extra'  and  then  repeat, 

That  "Roosevelt  is  dead;" 
The  great  Man  of  the  "Strenuous 
Life." 

Our  most  illustrious  Star, 
Had  fled  this  world  of  war  and  strife, 

And  crossed  the  mystic  bar. 
The  shocking  news  which  made  me 
sad, 

I  thought  my  heart  would  fail, 
The  Cartoon  which  the  paper  had, 

"It's  the  end  now  of  the  trail." 

No   more  the   brave   Rough   Riders 

charge, 

To  advance  upon  the  foe, 
Whose  fame  is  with  the  world  at 

large, 
The  din  and  shout  are  o'er; 


And  Other  Poems  43 

The  famous  Ninth  and  gallant  Tenth, 

Who  cut  the  tangle  wire, 
With    him    displayed  their    fighting 
strength, 

Beneath  a  rain  of  fire. 
From  thence  he  rose  with  sudden 
glare, 

The  whole  world  learnt  his  name, 
He  rose  like  Meteor  of  the  air, 

The  foremost  Son  of  Fame. 

He  seeks  no  more  the  woolly  West, 

To  chase  the  Grizzly  Bear; 
No  more  he  stirs  the  eagle's  nest, 

Nor  the  lion  in  his  lair ; 
No  more  he  lassos  on  the  plains, 

To  test  the  Cow  Boys'  brand, 
With  fleeting  steed  and  flowing  mane, 

Along  the  Rio  Grande. 
No  more  his  touring  car  shall  sweep, 

Along  the  Western  Rail, 
The  Red  man  and  his  tribe  shall  weep, 

"Its  the  end  now  of  the  trail." 

Their  "Great  White  Chief"  is  laid  to 

rest, 
He's  laid  aside  his  bow, 


44  The  Black  Devils 

He  is  gone  to  be  the  Wigwam's  guest, 

Acrost  the  other  shore. 
The  Black  man  with  his  night  of 
care, 

Beneath  the  chast'ning  rod, 
Would    style    the    great    American 
Peer, 

To  be  "a  Chile  of  God." 
He  preached  Democracy  at  home, 

That  Justice  would  prevail, 
But  he  has  crossed  the  surging  foam, 

"It's  the  end  now  of  the  trail." 

The  greatest  Man  that  the  world  has 
seen, 

Since  the  days  of  Christ  and  Paul, 
The  man  of  strong,  majestic  mien, 

Has  heard  the  solemn  call; 
The  Sage  and  Prince  of  Oyster  Bay, 

The  first  Citizen  of  the  world, 
Lies  a  lifeless  lump  of  clay, 

The  flag  half  mast,  unfurl'd. 
The  nations  of  the  earth  shall  mourn, 

Ethiopia's  sons  shall  wail, 
Their  truest  Friend  from  earth  has 
flown, 

"Its  the  end  now  of  the  trail." 


And  Other  Poems  45 

He  cut  aloose  twin  Continents, 

To  build  the  great  Canal, 
The  rock-ribbed  earth's  impediments, 

And  all  her  barriers  fell. 
He  roamed  the  dark  Brazilian  wilds, 

And  found  the  River  of  Doubt, 
And  the  ruins  along  the  banks  of 
Nile's, 

He  firmly  searched  them  out. 
He  was  the  Nimrod  of  his  day, 

The  Naturalist  and  then, 
He  was  the  Daniel  too  to  stay, 

In  Africa's  Lion's  den. 

He  drove  his  thunderous  Car  through 
Rome, 

This  great  American, 
Like  lightning  in  the  awful  storm, 

He  shook  the  Vatican ; 
When    Germany  swung    her    awful 
Sword, 

That  caused  the  dire  alarms, 
He  preached  "Preparedness"  as  code, 

And  America  rushed  to  arms. 
This  mighty  Nation  heard  his  voice, 

Was  why  she  did  not  fail, 


46  The  Black  Devils 

He  who  would've  been  the  Nation's 

choice, 
"It's  the  end  now  of  the  trail." 

When  Japan  with  her  armies  proud, 

Defeat  to  Russia  dealt, 
That  Rainbow  in  the  Battle  cloud, 

Was  Theodore  Roosevelt; 
In  Homeland  or  'neath  alien  skies, 

His  name  is  everywhere, 
The  mother  stills  her  babe  who  cries, 

With  the  name  of  Teddy  Bear. 
His  pen  bereft  of  artful  touch, 

He  leaves  unfinished  scroll, 
His  many  books  of  great  research. 

But  now  we  read  his  soul. 


And  Other  Poems  47 


AFRICA  AND  THE  DAWN. 

Africa's  "Dark  land,"  "Thou  ancient 

of  days," 
Ethiopia's  sons  stretch  forth  their 

hands, 
For  the  Star  of  Freedom  sends  forth 

its  rays, 
Through  the  wild  jungle,  crost  the 

desert's  sands ; 

Thy  dark  hued  children  shall  now  re 
joice, 
As  they  hail    the    dawn  of    a  new 

born  world, 

They  shall  shout  and  sing  with  jubi 
lant  voice, 
For  the  flag  of  Democracy  is  at 

last  unfurled. 
Thou  ancient  mother  of  science  and 

arts, 
Whose  civilization  with    the    ages 

flown, 
Gone,  gone  are  thy  cities  of  opulent 

marts, 

Thy  Rameses  the  Great,  has  left  his 
throne, 


48  The  Black  Devils 

Thy  fallen    temples    and    shattered 

ruins, 
The  pride  and  the  glory  that  once 

was  thine, 
Thy  rock-hewn  chambers  and  storied 

urns, 
Are  more  ancient    than    those    of 

Palestine. 
Thy  history  is  written  in  blood  and 

tears, 

Two  thousand  years  under  Euro 
pean  sway, 
Long  centuries  gray  with  unending 

cares, 
Now  break  with  the  dawn  of  a 

brighter  day. 
When  the  war  clouds  swung  like  a 

sable  pall, 
And    Europe    sounded    her    dire 

alarms, 

You  heard  the  thunder  and  the  bu 
gle's  call, 

And  sent  thy  black  warriors  ar 
rayed  in  arms. 

They  forgot  the  wrongs  which  were 
done  their  race, 


And  Other  Poems  49 

With  a  forgiving  heart  and  defiant 

sword, 

And  defiant  flash  from  each  ebon  face, 
They  fought  the  armies  of  a  drunk 

War  Lord. 
Germany  has  reaped  what  she  has 

sown; 

And  the  hoarded  wealth  from  Con 
go's  swamps, 
Like  the  chaff    of    wheat    with    the 

winds  have  flown, 
Have  all  been  exhausted  in  fields 

and  camps. 
The  great  God    alone    the  Sentinel 

keeps, 
Lest  they  forget  the  deeds  which 

they  have  wrought, 
Europe  in  tears  her  grim  harvest 

reaps, 

Its  food  at  the  World's  Peace  Ta 
ble  for  thought. 


50  The  Black  Devils 


THE  GERMAN  AFRICAN 
COLONIES. 

The  Slogan,  "Africa  cannot  govern 

herself," 

Protect  her   then   with   "Interna 
tional  Law," 
Take  her  lambs  from  the  prey  of  the 

wolf, 
Take  her  doves  from  the  vulture's 

claw. 
'Tis  better  to  leave  them  with  their 

heathen  god, 
With  whom  they  have  lived  three 

thousand  years, 
Than  to  give  them  "Kultur"  with  a 

bondman's  rod, 

And  fill  their  lands  with  blood  and 
tears. 

Give  them  more  Christ,  less  rum  and 

creed, 

The  glory  of  the  Cross  and  not  the 
flag, 


And  Other  Poems  51 

The  real  Democracy  is  the  thing  they 

need, 
From  her  darkest  jungle  to  her 

highest  crag. 

Give  her  cause  to  the  League  of  Na 
tions, 

You  will  see  the  fruits  of  her  civili 
zations. 

Ye  Allied  nations  with  your  flags  un 
furled, 

Will  you  sign  the  Magna  Charter  of 
the  world? 


52  The  Black  Devils 

*THE  SONG  OF  THE  KING'S 
RIFLEMEN. 

We  er  de  King's  Riflemen, 

We  fight  in  de  war, 

We  gwine  ter  win, 

De  Germans  habe  a  warrior  Chief, 

Dun  fill  de  world  wid  woe  an'  grief; 

His  home  iz  far  away  Berlin, 

His  heart  is  full  ob  hate  an*  sin ; 

We  er  de  King's  Riflemen, 

We  fight  in  de  war, 

We  gwine  ter  win, 

We  er  de  King's  Riflemen, 

Riflemen,  Riflemen. 

We  er  de  King's  Riflemen, 

We  fight  in  de  war, 

We  gwine  ter  win. 

England  knows  whut  we  kin  do, 
She  knows  we  er    soldiers  tried  an' 

true, 
She  knows  her  Zulu  warrior  will  do 

his  share, 

Fur  once  we  broke  de  British  Square. 
We  er  de  King's  Riflemen, 
We  fight  in  de  war, 


And  Other  Poems  53 

We  gwine  ter  win, 

We  er  de  King's  Riflemen, 

Riflemen,  Riflemen. 

We  er  de  King's  Riflemen, 

We  fight  in  de  war, 

We  gwine  ter  win, 

De  fightin'  Zulu  will  neber  yield, 

Ef  we  fall  on  de  battlefield; 

De  white  man's  God  will  save  us  when 

we  die, 

He  lives  way  up  in  de  sky ; 
He  will  open  his  door  an*  let  us  in, 
When  we  tell  'em,  we  er  de  King's 

Riflemen. 

We  er  de  King's  Riflemen, 
We  fight  in  de  war, 
We  gwine  ter  win, 
We  er  de  King's  Riflemen, 
Riflemen,  Riflemen. 

Sterling  M.  Means. 


*The  King's  Riflemen  of  British 
Army  in  South  Africa,  were  mostly 
native  troops,  some  white  officers. 


54  The  Black  Devils 


THE  BLACK  TROOPS  AT  THE 
BATTLE  OF  MARNE.* 

Ethiopia  sends  her  sons  from  afar, 
With  her  rude  war  song  and  the 

lance, 
To  give  their    lives    for    the    cause 

which  they  love, 

To  die  for  the  freedom  of  France; 
They  love  her  because  her  freedom  is 

real, 
And  scorns  not  the  dye  of  their 

skin ; 
Their  rights  are  not    barred    by  the 

code  of  her  laws, 

They  are  treated  like  citizens  and 
men. 

The  country  that  treats  its  subjects 

alike, 

Regardless  of  color  or  birth, 
Shall  live  while  others  shall  crumble 

to  naught, 

And  be  swept  from  the  face  of  the 
earth. 


And  Other  Poems  55 

May  the  future  poets  and  bards  of 

thy  land, 
Come  yet  with  their  tributes  of 

thanks, 
And  sing  of  their  valor  that  the  world 

may  know, 

That  they  fought  and  fell  in  thy 
ranks. 

The  world  remembers  the  fight  at  the 

Marne, 

That  foe  they  help  to  repel ; 
Joffre    relates    as    he    orders   their 

charge, 
That  they  rushed  like  the  demons 

from  hell. 
Von  Kluck  retreated,  his  legions  fell 

back, 

Before  their  daring  career, 
The  Crown  Prince  fainted,  was  re 
lieved  of  command, 
And  was  borne  by  his  men  to  the 
rear. 

When  the  powers  of  might  and  the 

mail  fist  shall  die, 
That  treated  the  helpless  unjust, 


56  The  Black  Devils 

Their  pride  shall  perish,  their  king 
doms  shall  fall, 

Their  scepter  shall  lie  in  the  dust. 
When  the  Teuton  is  driven  beyond 

their  confines, 

And  broken  his  scepter  and  lance, 
The  world  shall  hail  thee,  0  Mother 

of  Arts, 

With  the  chorus,  "Viva  la  France." 
— Sterling  M.  Means. 

The  French  African  troops  at  the 
Battle  of  the  Marne  helped  to  turn  the 
tide  of  battle ;  they  went  into  "action" 
with  their  rude  war  songs  and  savage 
yells;  their  charge  was  so  exciting 
that  it  unnerved  the  Crown  Prince, 
and  he  was  borne  by  his  men  to  the 
rear. 


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LIBRARY,  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA,  DAVIS 

Book  Slip-25m-6,'66(G3S5os4)458 


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Means,   S.M. 

The  Black  devils 


PS2377 

M8 
B5 


L I BRARY 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA 
DAVIS 


